Rebel
by Sorshiet
Summary: Jack is all set to raise his new child to be the best bloody pirate in the Caribbean. Well, second best, anyway...
1. Furious

Disclaimer: (n) From the latin prefix dis, meaning "not" and the root claim, meaning to declare as one's own.  A passage or section in a piece of writing declaring that the author does not own the characters, ideas, or settings in said piece of writing, and that the author does not gain any material profit from writing it.

Dedicated to everyone on ff.net that has written a Pirates fanfic, for inspiring me to write it in the first place, even if it's not quite the way you might think.

Rebel

Chapter 1: Furious

            "Jack Sparrow!"  _crack__!  The sound of flesh forcefully meeting flesh hung in the air on the docks.  "How dare you show your dirty, slimy, conniving, thieving, lying, traitorous, _ugly_ face here again!"  He grinned suggestively, not put out in the slightest by her fury._

            "You didn't think it was ugly when we—"  _crack__!  _

            "How _dare you!"_

            "Listen, Anamaria—"  He ducked as her palm swung toward his jaw again.  "It was for your own safety—"  The pirate captain took a few steps backward, balancing precariously on the edge of the dock as the black woman advanced on him, eyes narrowed dangerously.

            "And _Tortuga is safer than a ship manned by a bunch of slack-jawed idiots answering to your own __fine, __noble, _loyal_ self?"  she hissed.  "_Tortuga_ of all places, Sparrow!  I was fucking pregnant, you moron!"_

            Thankfully for the alarmed pirate captain, his crew had long since departed for the pubs.  If they had been anywhere in the vicinity, they most certainly would not have passed up the opportunity to poke fun at the comical figure their leader cut.  Although his clothing—leather boots, dark trousers, loose white shirt, linen vest and overcoat, and various bangles and sashes tied about his person—would have made him look dashing at any other time, at the moment he only looked ridiculous.  The image of him trying to edge away sideways from the woman who had, until about eight months ago, been part of his crew, would make even the most poker-faced pirate burst into laughter.

            "It was only temporary!"  he tried to defend himself.  "A ship's no place for a pregnant lady—" She stomped a few more paces towards him, trapping him at the end of the dock.  He continued doggedly on as her eyes blazed even brighter.  "And we've come to collect you now that you've had the kid—"

            "So a ship's no place for a pregnant lady, eh?  Now that I've had the baby you want me back, eh?"  she asked, her voice suddenly sly.  With a feeling that he would live to regret it, Jack slowly nodded, hoping "yes" was the right answer.  "Then my son and I will be waiting on the Pearl for you tomorrow morning."

            "Good, yes, you'll ditch the kid and what was that now?"  Jack did a double take.  She raised her hand threateningly and he cowered.  "Aye, you an' the babe'll be on the Pearl when we sail in the morn."  He smiled charmingly at her, trying to get back into her good graces.  "So what's the lad's name?  Jack junior, right?"

            Anamaria scowled at him, placed both of her hands firmly on the pirate's shoulders, and pushed.  With an undignified squawk, Captain Jack Sparrow, dread monarch of the _Black Pearl_, fastest, most feared, and most successful pirate ship in the Caribbean, tumbled backwards into the dirty water of Tortuga's docks.

***

Roses are Red,

Violets are Blue,

If you liked this,

Please review!

Barbossa's his name,

Cap'n of the undead crew,

And he'll come and start maiming,

If you don't review!

Criticism is great,

Fun and exciting are flames,

But I'm afraid I'm all out

Of rhymes for this game!

So drop me a line,

Whenever you please,

And may your dog never get

A dead camel's fleas.


	2. Pure

Rebel

Chapter 2: Pure

            Jack Sparrow grimaced at the baby.  Ugly little fat pink thing, it was, and always screaming at him.  Whine, whine, whine.  And Anamaria was worse.  "Jack, feed the baby.  Jack, give the baby a bath.  Jack, he's your son.  Don't you care about your son, Jack?"  Captain Sparrow muttered under his breath and stalked over to the makeshift cradle one of the crewmen had put together.  The silly creature was bawling again.

            "All right, what's wrong wif you now?"  he grumbled.  It was midnight and Jack was not in a good mood, especially since Anamaria had insisted that the child sleep in the captain's cabin, away from the crew, who she didn't seem to trust an inch.  To shut the baby up, he grabbed a coin from his nightstand and thrust it into the child's palm.  The baby immediately quieted down and grasped the coin tightly.  Try as he might, Jack could not get him to let go.  He grinned.  "Once you stop making awful noises in the middle of the night, you're going to be the best bloody pirate on the Caribbean, mate.  Well, second best anyway."  After all, the kid's blood was diluted by that…that…_woman_'s.  The woman who had perversely named the kid Anthony, which meant "protector of mankind" according to _her_.  It was the kind of name that Jack refused to call any son of his.

            _Fourteen years later_

            "Hey, junior!"  Anthony rolled his eyes, wondering if in his entire life his father had ever called him by his real name.

            "Aye?"

            "That's Aye, Cap'n," Jack corrected him sternly.  Anthony sighed and walked across the deck to the helm, where Captain Sparrow deftly guided his ship through the waves.  

            "Aye, Cap'n?"

            "You're on first watch tonight.  And don't fall asleep this time."

            "Aye, Cap'n," Anthony grumbled.  He turned away and headed for the railing to watch the sunset.  The rest of the crew were starting to finish up their chores and go below for card and dice games.

            "He doesn't mean to be so hard on you," Anamaria said, coming up behind him.  Anthony jumped; his mother could move more silently than a cat.  

            "Why won't he ever say my name?"  Anthony closed his eyes fiercely before the tears he could feel welling up could spill.  A pirate had no business crying, especially in the presence of both his parents.

            "Jack Sparrow never learned to be a father," she explained gently, her Spanish accent, so familiar, calming and comforting him.  "He wants you to be a good pirate."

            Anthony sighed.  "I still haven't been in a raid.  He won't let me.  How am I supposed to be a good pirate if he won't let me?" To that Anamaria had no answer for her son.  She sighed and squeezed his shoulder before leaving him alone at the railing.

            ***

            Thanks to everybody who reviewed the last chapter.  I realize this one's a little short as well, but next chapter there will be a plot!  Yes there will.  Hopefully, anyway.. ^_^


	3. Corrupted

Rebel

Chapter 3: Corrupted

            The sounds of battle filled the air, hectic and torrential.  Man after man met death at the blade, or as the crack of a pistol rang through the air.  In the thick of the battle, Jack and Anthony Sparrow stood back to back, fending off a circle of red-coated British soldiers.  "You've improved, lad!"  Jack yelled above a scream of anguish.  He grinned ferally as his son ran a soldier through.  

            "Many thanks, Cap'n!"  Anthony cried, returning the grin.  Lost in the fury of the battle, the young man was oblivious to how many men he had killed since they'd boarded the naval vessel.  The HMS _Lioness had attempted pursuit of the __Pearl,  and Jack, being the perverse devil that he was, had decided with the full approval of the crew to give the prissy bastards the fight they so obviously wanted.  _

            The battle ended shortly.  The few soldiers who had been smart enough to surrender were left aboard their now useless ship—the crew of the _Pearl_ had demolished the rudder and set the sails on fire before taking their leave of the ship.  They took with them most of the provisions and goods aboard.

            As the pirates sailed away on the _Pearl, Anthony watched the British sailors shoving bodies off the poor _Lioness_ and shooting them hate-filled glances over their shoulders.  Anthony grinned.  Another job well done._

***

            Anthony had changed, there was no doubt about that.  Anamaria thought about it as she checked the tension on the rigging portside.  He had suddenly stopped being so sensitive and had started being more…ruthless.  Yes, that was the word, ruthless; and although a good pirate had to be ruthless to survive the kind of life they led, Anamaria was not sure she liked the change in her son.  She had taught him well—he could handle a sword almost as well as Jack, and could tell a lie even the good Captain couldn't see through.  He could outtalk and outrun his father, and soon he would have the same caliber of intuition that told Jack exactly where the wealthiest merchant vessels ran and what point exactly to strike a ship at to secure the swiftest victory.

            Anamaria grinned as she realized that she was comparing her son's every aspect to Jack.  The grin faltered as she remembered her original doubts.  

            She did not like the man her son had become.  She did not like him at all.

            She jumped as an arm was slung around her shoulder.  "Jack," she growled.

            "Anamaria," he replied with a chuckle.  "Jumpy, much?"  She didn't answer, but didn't push his arm away.  "You do realize you've been standing over here staring at nothin' for about an hour?"  She glanced at him and shrugged noncommittally.  "Now don't give me that, love."  He grinned and poked her nose with a grimy finger.  "You're scarin' the crew.  Gibbs is terrified you're contemplating the best way to kill us all in our beds.  Your own _darling_ son thinks you're more inclined to suicide.  I tried to tell him you know perfectly well how to swim, but does he listen to me?  Course not."

            "Shove off, Jack," Anamaria growled angrily, pushing Jack away.  "Don't talk to me about Tony right now, all right?"

            "Fine," the pirate muttered.  "At least whatever it is it can't be my fault," he muttered as he stomped sulkily off.  Anamaria's lip lifted in a scornful sneer.  _If only you knew how wrong you were, Jack._

***

Well.  I suppose this is going to be one of those stories where I can only write a page per chapter.  Oh well.  Next chapter:  More changes in store for Tony Sparrow.  What will happen to him in the future?  Can anything make him change his bloodthirsty ways?  What happened to the fine morals he had as a youth?   Don't ask me, I don't bloody know!  *grin*


End file.
